


Teardrops and words left unsaid

by angelsong87



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 10:41:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9891056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsong87/pseuds/angelsong87
Summary: This scene takes place in TLD after the birthday cake scene.Molly and Sherlock both have something to say to each other, but should they say it?Should those words come out, or are they better left inside hidden away from hurt.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So just a quick warning there is reference to Mary's death, if this is a trigger for you please don't hurt yourself reading this, there is also a slight reference to Sherlock being perhaps slightly suicidal. take care and enjoy.

 

 

Sherlock Holmes had always avoided sentiment. That included all celebrations to that effect. Though he had, in recent years, been unable to avoid all traditional celebrations -Christmas was the bane of his existence- he had for the past twenty years at least, been able to slip past the day that marked his birth unseen.

Until today that is. _Damn The Woman and her ridiculous flirting_. Though she texted far more sparingly these days, her interruptions were always met with unseen consequences. Today's being an extremely awkward date with John and Molly.

John had gone through his own revelations today and Sherlock was pleased to see that his friend was finally on the road to recovery after Mary's death. But after going through such emotional turmoil, it is hard to get into a celebratory mood, despite his attempt at humour regarding the damn hat.

Add in to that equation Dr Molly Hooper, and things had gone from bad to worse. The short lived date had been filled with silences as all three participants had much on their minds. John had bowed out early, pointing out that Rosie was due to be picked up from her sitter. That just left Molly and Sherlock.

She was angry... more angry than he had ever seen her. He would have preferred her slap him again to the cold rage she exhibited now. But they were stuck together for the next eight hours at least. _Damn John and his babysitting schedule_. Sherlock could understand it he supposed, his friend's concern with his drug use. But the case was over, and he was still recovering from the toll of the drugs he had taken. He had no intentions of adding anymore right now. In fact he would say, it's safe to assume the next several months would be sober. But no amount of arguing would change the cold walk back to the flat with the angry pathologist at his side.

He did need to apologize to her, he knew this. But nothing he could think of was sufficient against this level of hostility. As he settled himself into his chair he regarded the small woman sitting opposite him. "You look well Molly, have you lost weight?" He tried to ask casually. _Of course she'd lost weight, almost five pounds by the look of it. She looked tired and pale, and generally unhappy._

Molly Hooper fixed her stare at the man. "Really?" She asked, raising one carefully sculpted eyebrow.

"What?"

She scoffed, shaking her head. "So, what? I'm just supposed to pretend nothing happened, pretend everything's fine and forget that you just tried to kill yourself."

He thought about it, searching through the Rolodex of emotions and social cues he had learned. _He didn't understand, he was fine now. Why should she still have a problem? Why should she be concerned with his health when her own was obviously in disrepair_. "Yes?" He tried. Molly clenched her jaw tightly. _Okay wrong answer_ he thought.

"You are unbelievably Sherlock." A tear made the mistake of leaking out of her eye and she viciously swiped it away. Sherlock opened his mouth to reply but she refused to let him get the last word. "And don't say it was for a case. I don't believe you."

There was nothing he could possibly say right now to help the situation so Sherlock sat in silence waiting for her to find the words she wanted to say.

"I know, John didn't want you around after..... after Mary. But we were all hurting." She started. _God what am I doing?_ She asked herself. She wanted him to care, she w _anted him to see her, to really see her. He needed to see that what he did effected more than just John._ "Mary was a shining light that brightened everyone she touched. She was my friend too." Molly stared into his blank face praying for some kind of reaction, _anything! That showed her the man she knew was in there. Did his eyes just soften?_

  
_She was in pain!_ Suddenly it all made sense. He had underestimated Molly's attachment to Mary and how she was feeling. He looked back on the interactions they had shared since her death. Molly at the funeral, back straight, holding John's hand. Molly in Baker Street, checking on Mrs Hudson. Molly taking Rosie for days on end so John could have a break. _When was the last time she had been to work?_ He wondered.

"You just don't get it, she died, and you tried to kill yourself."

"I didn't!" He argued. "Molly I promise I didn't, it was for Mary. Molly please believe me." _Had he tried to kill himself? Why would he have done that?_

"Don't Sherlock, just don't. I examined you, I know exactly how close you came." Her voice trembled as she tried to reign in her emotions. _Calm down Molly!_ She told herself. _Getting emotional won't help anything, not with him._

His brow creased in worry. "Are you alright?" He softly asked her. _Has anyone actually asked her that?_

She let out a small laugh. "Look at yourself Sherlock, your a mess and your asking me if I'm okay?" She closed her eyes, needing some space from the man who tore her heart out.

She felt a warm hand encircle hers and opened her eyes in surprise. Sherlock had gotten out of his chair and was kneeling by her feet. "Yes, I am. Are you okay? Molly Hooper." He said his eyes piercing into her.

All at once she was undone, all of the pain, the heartbreak, the loneliness... everything, just everything, came out. And for the second time today, Sherlock Holmes held a friend as she cried in his arms.

There was nothing more he could do right now except press his nose to her hair, her shampoo smelled stronger than usual, probably because the underlying smell of formaldehyde was missing. Her sobs were gut wrenching and he felt utterly ashamed. _How could you miss this? How did you not see her pain, you always see her._

When the tears finally ceased she looked up to the man who held her. He had been drawing daisies on her back for a while now and the comfort pained he _r. Why is he doing that? Why does he care?_ She looked down at his shirt which was stained with her tears and sniffed. "Sorry, about your shirt."

"It's fine, I have lots of shirts." He replied making no attempt to sever contact with her. It felt nice, having her in his arms. It felt.... right _? What does that even mean? Honestly Sherlock, pull yourself together._

She sighed and wiped her eyes. _It's time to let go now, that's enough, that will be enough_. "I'm going to make some tea, did you want one?" She asked breaking away from him and standing up.

He waited till she had stepped away before standing and clearing his throat. "Yes, thank you. I'm going to, change my shirt." He said and headed for his room, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the frame unbuttoning the moist grey shirt. He had hurt so many people, so many and he never cared. Not like he cared for them, _John Watson, Mary Watson. Molly.... Molly Hooper._ He wished he didn't, he wanted so badly to go back to before. Before the fall at St Barts. _You should have just stayed away, it would have been better for everyone._

He pushed down the self loathing and forced himself to change and head out into the kitchen, Molly was just finishing the tea and handed him his cup. "Sherlock I, I just wanted to say thank you for what you did back there." She nodded to the sitting rooms where he had held her. " I'm not sure I'd let myself cry really, about everything. I feel much better now." _This was a lie, but a necessary one._

He nodded awkwardly rocking back on his feet. "I'm glad." _Say something! For god sake man say something! If you don't say it now you never will!_ "Molly?" He asked stepping towards her.

"Hmm?" She replied taking a sip from her tea.

Sherlock took a deep breath and prepared himself. "Would you like to... watch the telly with me?" _Good, don't say anything. You're kidding yourself anyway and you know it. It's a mild infatuation at best. Besides she is far too pure for you. Text The Woman back, she's more your style, a liar who doesn't really care about anyone unless it suits her... that's just like you._

"Ah, okay." Said Molly, _that was odd, I wonder what he's playing at now._

And so the detective and the pathologist settled in for a night of crap telly, both knowing and feeling more than they ever want to admit... little do they know when the east wind blows, everything will change.

**Author's Note:**

> Molly was so adamant that Sherlock knew why she couldn't tell him she loved him in TFP, this little story popped into my head to explain why. anyway, please comment and tell me what you thought.


End file.
